


Sea-Change

by ORigel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:35:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25768279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ORigel/pseuds/ORigel
Summary: A casual Harry Potter fan finds himself in the body of an eleven-year old Hogwarts student. This self-insert won't be a wisecracking Marty Stu like most of the other SIs, I promise! Eventual slash and het pairings.
Kudos: 16





	1. Arrival

Chapter 1  
Arrival

Shapes and colors around me blurred into a formless gray expanse. Then the world reformed...into a city street?

"I must be dreaming," I said. Could I try...levitating? I imagined I was filling with helium, but the somewhat familiar (from dreams) feeling did not manifest. My feet stayed firmly planted on the sidewalk. 

"Damn," I said. For the first time, I noticed my voice was high-pitched. I realized that I was significantly shorter than what I'm used to, and that I was wearing a t-shirt and jeans. Suddenly an owl swooped down at me, depositing a letter. So this dream was Harry Potter themed. I looked at the address:

 _Mr. Isaac Emerson_  
_Charing Cross Road_  
_London_

I opened it, vain(?) excitement bubbling.

_Dear Mr. Emerson,_

__

__

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We await your owl by no later than August 31st._

_Minvera McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress_

"Owl?" I said. I heard a hoot in reply. I looked upward and saw the owl perched on a power line. I searched my pockets and found a wallet and a pen. I wrote Yes Please on the back of the pap-parchment. The owl took the acceptance letter, leaving the envelope, and flew away.

I looked around. No one seemed to have noticed. Was it the Mist? No, wrong universe.

Anyway, I saw the Leaky Cauldron pub up ahead. How fortunate for me to arrive here, of all places. I walked up to the pub and stepped inside. 

"Sir?" I said to the barman, Tom. "I th--, um I am a Muggleborn and is there a fund for Muggleborn students?"

"Yes. Go to Gringotts and the Goblins will give you some money. But take it from the Hogwarts Muggleborn Student Fund. Do not get a loan or accept any deals, because magical contracts are binding." I nodded. "You'll need to give the goblins blood-- just a drop-- it's what they use to identify you. But aren't you a bit late for a Muggleborn? It's the 31st of August, for Merlin's sake!" 

"Um...I just arrived here…"

Tom didn't ask me any more questions. He tapped his wand on the bricks for me-- it transpired that the key bricks were a lighter color-- and the portal opened. "Thanks," I said. The barman shuffled off to deal with other customers.

Diagon Alley (which was actually diagonal; hence the name) was bustling with activity. I walked towards the big, important-seeming building that I assumed to be Gringotts. When I got closer, I saw that I was right. I entered the building. I asked the goblin teller for money from the Hogwarts Muggleborn Student Fund, and the teller asked for a drop of my blood. Once he (she? they?) was assured that I "really" was who I claimed to be (I barely remembered my supposed name), he directed me towards another goblin. That goblin escorted me to a cart and we plummeted down into the bowels of the Earth.

When the goblin reached the rather small vault, he wouldn't let me enter as it was not my money but money given to Hogwarts by the ministry. Glaring at me, the goblin emerged from the vault with a bag of coins which he handed to me. I was surprised that it didn't weigh much at all despite being filled with dense metal coins.

"That will get you second-hand supplies. But if you sign up for one of our loans, you can buy a trunk with an extra-dimensional storage space, and a broomstick of your choice," the goblin sneered.

"No thanks," I said awkwardly. There was no way this offer was in good faith, and I lacked gold and a way of making gold.

Then it was time for the ascent, which wasn't as exhilarating as the trip downwards.

Once the ride was over, I thanked the goblin politely, and left the cart.

My first stop was Ollivanders. I was eager to get my wand. The titular wandmaker was polishing his wand with a strange expression-- ecstasy-- on his face. I opened the door and the man looked embarrassed. "I sometimes get really...involved...with my craft," the wandmaker said. He must've seen the bewilderment on my face for he changed the subject: "I haven't seen you before."

"I am Isaac Emerson. Muggleborn."

"Ah. Well, we should get right to the measuring, as no doubt you need to rush and buy all your things before the shops close."

I winced. I hadn't considered I was on a deadline. I had imagined browsing Flourish and Blotts for hours. Of course, I would wake up soon, and probably not be able to read the words in the books as this was just a dream.

Ollivander waved his wand and a measuring tape flew over to me and began to measure me. While that happened, Ollivander stared at me. I understood then why Harry Potter thought he was creepy.

"Enough!" the wandmaker said. The tape flew back to its place on a high shelf. The wandmaker pulled down some boxes.

"Chestnut and dragon heartstring, ten inches, springy." The wand was inert in my hand.

"Oak and unicorn hair, twelve inches, whippy." This wand felt wrong in my hands. It emitted a smell like burnt rubber.

"Alder and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, stiff." 

"No-- Ebony and unicorn hair, eight and three quarter inches." 

"Ah, basswood and unicorn hair, nine inches, rigid." There was a warmth in my hand, spreading down my arm...towards my chest. The wand connected to something inside me, perhaps my heart or soul or wherever I get "my" magic from.

"Bravo! Very good! Very good indeed...eight galleons. The wood was a New England import, after all, so your wand is a touch more expensive than most of my wands." I paid the wandmaker and left the shop.


	2. Sorting

Sorting

I was completely exhausted. 

After I had purchased my school supplies, I had an unpleasant surprise: I did not have enough galleons to rent a room at the Leaky Cauldron or enough Muggle pounds for even one night at a hotel. Fortunately, I found that Knockturn Alley had cheap enough inn rooms-- if I hadn't blown the remaining gold on food supplies (I felt as if I was starving). So I had to sleep-- or attempt to sleep-- on a bench in Muggle London before using some of my last Sickles on the Knight Bus to take me to King's Cross station.

Now I was on the Hogwarts Express and I was going to sleep for several hours, I swear to FSM--

The compartment door opened, revealing a teenager who gave me a contemptuous look before closing the door. "Firstie."

Soon after, a trio of girls arrived, but they passed my compartment to find another.

The train started to move.

Finally, a young red haired girl opened it. "Hi," she said nervously. "I'm Ginerva Weasley. I'm looking for my brother Ron and Harry Potter. I cannot find them anywhere."

"Oh, they'll show up in a flying car," I said without thinking.

"What?" She looked fearful.

"I heard them saying what a great idea it would be to take a flying car to Hogwarts when I was about to go through the barrier," I improvised. 

"I wish they'd invited me!"

"No you don't. They'll get into big trouble. Especially if any Muggles see the flying car."

"My dad's going to be in so much trouble."

"What?"

"Nothing," Ginerva said.

"Maybe you should borrow someone's owl to tell your parents…?" I trailed off.

"I'll do that, thanks!" Ginerva ran off.

Woah, I'd just met Ginny Weasley. And this was the year she had Tom's diary. I had to steal it from her, somehow.

Ginerva came back after a few minutes. "Thank you, I borrowed Lee Jordan's." I didn't recognize the name. "So you didn't tell me your name…"

Ginny and I talked for a while. Fortunately, she didn't write in the diary at all. She talked about her family and how Harry Potter visited her over the summer, etc., etc. I handwaved my life away by claiming that I ended up losing most of my memories of my life due to a Memory Charm malfunction when I was nine.

Then we practiced spells. Lumos and Alohomora were simple point-and-cast spells. And I knew the wand motion for Wingardium Leviosa. While Ginny managed the spells easily, I had more trouble. My Lumos wavered. I couldn't levitate my Every Flavour Beans well-- they only twitched. And I could barely keep my eyes open. 

"Ginny-- I need to sleep for a while. I haven't been sleeping well and I think it's affecting my magic." 

So I slept-- on the opposite side of the compartment from her, of course.  
s  
Ginny shook me awake. "Time to change-- you're still in Muggle clothes and I can see the castle in the distance." And so I put my school robes over my Muggle clothes. It would do, for tonight.

The train stopped. Ginny and I left our luggage on the train. I saw the perfect opportunity there, so I doubled back to steal the Diary from Ginny's luggage. Leaving the train, I heard a shout of, "Firs' years! Firs' years!"  
s  
"Boats are a stupid way of getting in," I said. Ginny, Colin Creevey, and some other girl were in the boat with me. My shoes were soaked due to a thin sheet of water at the bottom of the little rowboat.

"I wish I had my camera!" said Colin. "I have so many pictures to take! Ooh." He pointed. "Is that the giant squid?"

Up ahead, I could see a tentacle not far below the water surface. I wondered if the giant squid was one of Hagrid's pets. I was a bit scared of it. I definitely wasn't going into Gryffindor, I sourly realized.

Even further ahead loomed the mighty Hogwarts Castle. Was it a good idea to have lakewater eating at the school's foundations? There was a dock, coming closer, really close now.  
s  
The first years including me entered into the Great Hall in a single-file line. On a stool sat the Sorting Hat, which looked subtly different from the one used in the movies. The Sorting Hat sang some God-awful song about the Hogwarts Houses while we first years stood nervously waiting. I looked around the Hall and saw two boys that could only be Harry and Ron sitting towards the end of the Gryffindor table. So they hadn't crashed into the Whomping Willow this time. Maybe they were intercepted.

When the Hat finally shut up, McGonagall called out "Burke, Matthew!" He ran up to the stool and placed the Hat on his head--

"SLYTHERIN!"

Colin Creevey was sorted into Gryffindor, as expected. Lyra Davis went into Hufflepuff. Then my name was called.

I nervously walked up to the stool on which the Sorting Hat rested. I put the Hat on my head. "Hmmm, another time travel."

You've gotten time travelers before?

"Yes. A few dozen, over the centuries. All of them from 21st century America, Canada, or Britain. The last one graduated in 1987. Now where should I put you?"

It seems pretty obvious that I am a Ravenclaw. I mean, I am lazy, not brave, and definitely not cunning.

"But you don't value knowledge all that much. You think that the greatest virtue is kindness, and doing the right thing, so that would suggest Hufflepuff or Gryffindor. And I sort based on what the wearer values, not what they are like. Else Houses would not run in families like they do."

I am a Muggleborn. I don't have a family anymore. Sort me where I'll do best.

"Fine...RAVENCLAW!"

I took the Hat off. "Good riddance," I muttered.


	3. First Classes

The next day, I woke up a little early, and I caught sight of myself in a mirror. Just when I was trying on robes at Madam Malkins, I was fascinated. I looked so different than I had before, even when I was eleven. I used to have blonde hair and blue eyes. Now I had medium-length brown hair and brown eyes. My lips were fuller than they had been.

What had happened to the original Isaac Emerson? Was his consciousness banished from this body, or was it still within, dormant? Did the body just _appear_ on Charing Cross Road for my "soul" to occupy two days ago, without any prior history?...

I had wasted much time staring at my new reflection. I brushed my teeth, ran a comb through my hair, and left the bathroom and Ravenclaw tower for the Great Hall.

Schedules were passed out by the Heads of Houses at breakfast. I looked down at mine. Today (a Wednesday), I had Double Potions, Charms, and Defense Against the Dark Arts.   
s  
I stared at my ruined potion. It was the wrong color and viscosity. Professor Snape came over. "It has been left on the fire too long. And you did not add the toad liver after stirring the mixture counterclockwise seven times. This boil-cure potion is useless!" He paused. "Class, cork a sample of your potion to be turned in for grading. Davis and Emerson will be getting a zero."

Lyra Davis, my partner for the class, looked about to cry. But she managed not to. I was more composed since I sucked at college chemistry and had only passed it because of my partner's work and my own lab reports.

"Maybe we should partner with people who know what they're doing next time. Plus, I think"-- I lowered my voice-- "Snape chose a finicky potion on purpose. I heard Neville Longbottom melted his cauldron with this potion last year." Lyra nodded politely.   
s  
In Charms, Professor Flitwick lectured for most of the class on theory, then had the class work on the Lumos Charm. Ginny (the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws had the class together), Luna Lovegood, and I all produced a light at the ends of our wands immediately, but most of the class found the spell more challenging. At the end of the class, Professor Flitwick assigned a foot of parchment on magical cores and extra practice for those who hadn't managed to light their wands yet.  
s  
I was slightly late for Defense Against the Dark Arts that afternoon. I hurried into the classroom.

"...banshee by _smiling_ at it! Ah, you're late! What is your name?"

"Isaac Emerson, sir," I panted.

"Do not be late again."

All the seats were filled save for a desk in the front row. I went over to it, sat down, and pulled out my quills and parchment.

"Now I'd like to begin with a quiz-- to test how deeply you read my books." What teacher expects everyone to have read his books before the first class? Wouldn't it be more prudent to test our general knowledge of Defense? Then I received the quiz.

_1\. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite colour?_   
_2\. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?_

And so on. It was that sort of quiz. So I just gave "forty-two" as the answer to the first question and started on my Charms essay.

After thirty minutes, Lockhart collected the tests and started grading the tests while telling us to "practice" our Defensive Spells even though the class didn't know any yet.

"Emerson!" Lockhart called. "You didn't answer any of the questions! Ten points from Ravenclaw and detention tonight!" His voice softened. "But Lyra Davis knew how I banished the Bandon Banshee! And that my favorite colour is lilac. Where is she?"

Lyra stood up, blushing. I heard sniggering from a couple of the Slytherins.  
s  
I knocked on the door of Lockhart's office that night. "Come in." He was staring at me. "You'll be answering my fanmail." His stare was making me uncomfortable.

The rest of the detention passed like a blur of answering mail from Lockhart's fans.  
s  
Tomorrow was Flying with the Hufflepuffs. I was nervous because physical skills had never been one of my talents. Well, that was with my old body…

Since there were no near-Squibs like Neville Longbottom along, the Flying Lesson went smoothly. Madam Hooch instructed us to hover ten feet in the air, fly forward at a slow pace, and then gently lower ourselves to the ground. However, the Shooting Stars were not sensitive to touch, and so most of us shot forward before righting ourselves. A Hufflepuff named Paul Abbot crashed into the ground from a low height and scraped his palms and knees. 

I wished I had a decent broomstick.  
s  
 _The Transfigured object holds the spell within itself. It consumes the magic you directed at it and changes back once all the magic is consumed. This can be observed if you Transfigure a solid substance into water and boil it. As bits of water leave the main body, they will be cut off from the magic and turn back into their original substance. [Figure 1-3]_

_However, if a spell is powerful enough, the spell-matrix can absorb magic from its surroundings and the Transfiguration can become permanent, especially in a magically-rich location like Hogwarts._

I paraphrased the information for use in my Transfiguration essay, citing Switch 1921. I dug out the matchstick I'd transfigured earlier that day-- sure enough, it was no longer silver and pointy. I wondered if Hermione Granger's matchstick had lasted this long.

I pulled out my wand and said, "Tempus." I had practiced that charm earlier today in History of Magic. It was 10:10. I sighed. I had to stay up tonight for Astronomy (which began at midnight). Where was the kitchen? Could the house elves there make me coffee? My eyes rested on Tom Riddle's Diary. Here was the soul of a sly rule-breaker. Maybe he knew where to find it. No-- it was too dangerous! But Ginny took months to be affected by the Diary...

Oh, right! Ginny. Two days ago, she'd told me that she had left her diary on the train, and she still had looked put-out at dinner earlier this evening.

I looked at the Diary again. No, not tonight. Later.

Then I realized just how I could find the kitchens.   
s  
I stood next to a portrait of a man teaching trolls to dance. I hoped this was the right place.

_I need to enter the kitchens._   
_I need to enter the kitchens._   
_I need to enter the kitchens._

A door appeared in the previously-blank wall.


End file.
